


The Perfect Dance

by padalelli



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demons, F/M, Possession, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27658619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padalelli/pseuds/padalelli
Summary: Dean drags Sam to a strip club on his birthday.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	The Perfect Dance

“Come on, it’s my birthday!” Dean whined to Sam. “Come to the strip club with me!”  
Sam scoffed again and rolled his eyes. “Why do you want me to go with you? You can go look at strippers by yourself. You do, actually. All the time.”  
They had been arguing about it since they checked into the motel. “Exactly. Because I know you don’t give a shit. But today’s my birthday and this time I want you to come watch naked ladies dance with me,” Dean told him.  
“You either get $300 from me to go alone, or I come with you and I don’t have to pay for anything except my own drinks,” Sam threatened.  
“Not takin’ your hustling money. You’re coming with me.” Dean opened the door to the motel room and stood in the doorway until he saw Sam get up to move.  
Sam didn’t care about strip clubs. Not that he despised them, or going to them every once in a while, but he was a man of intellect. And Dean was a man of simplicity- the two of which do not blend well in environments such as strip clubs. He would much rather take _himself_ to the strip club, _alone_ , on _his_ birthday. But fine, if this had to be the thing Dean would insist on, then so be it.  
Upon entering the club, Dean quickly made his way to a seat in front of one of the smaller stages, Sam not nearly as enthusiastically following suit. “Hey go get me some singles and fives, would ya?” Dean called to Sam, handing him a couple of hundred dollar bills.  
Sam rolled his eyes and took the bills. “Yeah, sure.”  
Meanwhile, Dean looked over the club for a girl he thought Sam would be drawn to. When he spotted her, he waved her over to him, looking over at the bar to make sure Sam was still occupied. The stripper squatted beside Dean’s chair and gave him a smile before asking sweetly, “What can I do for ya, dear?”  
Dean leaned closer so she could hear him without having to yell. “See my brother there over at the bar?” He asked her. She glanced at Sam and nodded. “I want you to take him for a private dance once he gets back over here.” She looked at Sam again before Dean handed her a few twenties. “Deal?”  
The stripper nodded with a smile and stood back up, Sam returning shortly after.  
*  
You slid the cash the tall man’s brother gave you into the waistband of your thong before standing back up. You glided over to him once he returned to the vicinity. “Hi there,” you greeted him in a friendly voice, toying with the collar on his jacket.  
Sam wondered how Dean had been able to recognize the dancer he found most attractive, knowing he had been the one to send you over to Sam. He passed Dean the bills behind your back as he gazed at you. “Hi,” he finally stuttered out.  
Aside from his brother, this guy was probably one of the most attractive men you had seen since you started your job here. You had no qualms with bringing him around for a private dance. In fact, you secretly hoped he would become a regular. You could absolutely get used to seeing him… dancing for him… “Come on,” you coaxed, taking his hand in yours to lead him to the private dance rooms in the back. Dean gave his brother a shit-eating grin and two thumbs up as you led Sam away. Sam took a seat on the bench nervously once in the private space. “You seem anxious.” You made conversation while you gave the tall handsome man his lap dance.  
He snickered, loosening up a little. “Not per say,” he replied. “Just used to minding my own business.”  
You felt his eyes on you, unsure whether they were angry or lustful. “Sorry,” you said softly, backing off a little.  
He was quick to grab you by the waist and pull you closer again. “I meant my brother, not you,” he said firmly, staring you down.  
You decided to straddle his lap, and he relaxed even more, leaning back against the pillows behind him. His eyes ran up and down the length of your body as you ground against him, his hands still gently squeezing your waist. _God I wish he wasn’t a client,_ you thought to yourself. He was a spitting image of how you had always pictured your perfect guy, and he was being pretty gentlemanly without being shy at the same time. You sensed a hint of dominance in him, but also a hint of submission, and you were enamored by it. When you stood up off of his lap and turned to face away from him you could’ve sworn he almost _whimpered_. “Are you new in town?” you asked, hoping you might be able to convince him to come back.  
“I guess you could say that,” he replied curtly.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquired playfully.  
“I just settled down in the next town over.”  
“Settled down, as in…?”  
“I used to move around a lot, never lived in one place for very long. But my brother and I finally found a place we can call home, so let’s hope everything works out.”  
“Let’s hope indeed,” you said in return, giving him a wink. “What’s your name?” you asked, not wanting to forget him.  
“Oh, it’s Sam,” he said nervously as you ran your hands down his legs, crouched in front of him.  
You stood back up slowly, taking your bra off as you did so. “Well, Sam, I hope I get to see you around more often…” you told him in a sultry voice.  
He lightly scoffed, looking you over. “Maybe you will…” he replied, matching your tone and putting his hands back on you.  
_God he’s got a grip…_ “I thought you were the next town over.” You kept the conversation going.  
Once his eyes moved to your breasts he couldn’t get enough. “That may be so, but there ain’t nothing like you over there.” His hands slowly traced up your ribs, and you felt butterflies in your chest.  
_Uh oh… that’s not supposed to happen… he’s just a client [Y/N], pull yourself together…_ So you gently slapped his hands away, giving him a coy smile. “Well, I’m flattered Sam,” you said in a flirty tone, reminding yourself not to actually flirt with him. “Hope it’s not too long a drive…”  
Sam leaned back again and continued to stare as you finished dancing to the song overhead. “I think it’d probably be worth it,” he flirted back, one side of his mouth curling up in a grin.  
You remained silent until the end of the song, largely trying not to make eye contact so you’d stop forming a delusional crush on someone who might be a regular client. Sam tucked a few bills into your thong as you danced, remaining silent as well— but not in discomfort.  
*  
It was only a few days later when you saw him again, but he seemed different this time. Not that he had been the most relaxed person in the building to begin with, but he seemed far more tense this time around. You were bartending when he walked in this time, and you recognized him immediately, although you were unsure if he would recognize you in return. When he had come in a few days ago you’d been wearing a blood red wig and subtly gray contacts, but tonight you were on a bartending shift, so you looked mostly yourself. Plus a little more clothing, of course. But Sam was unaccompanied this evening, perhaps the reason behind his tension. You were sure he’d recognized you when he headed straight for the bar, but he sat right in front of you and said politely, “Could I get a whiskey please?”  
_Maybe I was wrong,_ you thought to yourself, but decided to be honest. “Sure, Sam,” you replied casually, turning around to grab the bottle and a rocks glass.  
“Do I know you?” He responded just before you turned back to face him and realization hit his face. “Hey!” He said enthusiastically once he could get the words out of his mouth.  
You smiled. “Hey,” you greeted him playfully, sliding the glass of whiskey over to him.  
“I guess I didn’t expect to see you bartending… Hey, I never got your name the other night…”  
You snickered. “Well, I would give it to you, but then I would have to lie to you.” You wished you could just give him your real name, but unless it was an emergency, your boss preferred that you take protective measures and didn’t give it out to clients. Which you loved— you never doubted that the club owner only ever wanted to keep the employees safe. If he had to toss out some rubble-rousers every once in a while, so be it. But in this particular instance, you hated that you had to respect the rule.  
“Well, how about instead of telling me what you go by, why don’t you just tell me what I can call you?” He smiled gently.  
You bit your lip to hide a small smile. You didn’t have to tell him to call you the same thing as the rest of the clientele, you could come up with something just for him to call you. But would that be going over any lines, starting an inside joke of sorts? “Why don’t you call me Angel?” It was the only alias you could think of off the top of your head that wasn’t already being used by a coworker. But as soon as you said it, you kind of hated it.  
Sam seemed to sneer. “Angel… okay.”  
“So what brings you back to my neighborhood?” You tried to make your tone casual, but for some reason you felt like you were giving flirtier vibes than anything.  
“Something I actually wanted to ask you about…”  
You leaned forward against the bar. “Ask away.”  
“Do you know anything about the deaths that have been happening in town?”  
You tensed up. You had heard about what was going on, but you didn’t know much. “I actually only moved here about a year ago, so I don’t really know anyone here outside of work.”  
“And do you have another job or anything, any coworkers outside of this establishment?”  
You wondered why he was so interested in the topic, specifically surrounding you. “Are you a cop or something?” You asked.  
“Sort of.” He shrugged. “It’s probably better if you stay out of it.” He sat back in his seat.  
“Oh, made you change your mind did I?”  
“Honestly, you do seem innocent enough,” he said in a flirty tone, his lip pulling up in a grin.  
“I do have another job. At a diner. You should come by sometime.”  
“I’d love to if you told me what diner to go to.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a card, sliding it across the bar to you. “How about you text me the place, and call me if there’s an emergency— a life or death emergency, that is.”  
You took the card and slipped it into your bra. “Will do. Won’t you stay a while?”  
He smiled at you before he stood up and threw down a twenty. “Unfortunately, I have more sort-of-cop things to do. But text me.” Then he left again.  
_You can’t do anything unless he isn’t a client. But technically, his brother had paid for his lap dance that last time, and he didn’t buy anything but a drink… which you didn’t have to ring up… That would make it fine, right? No patronage…_ You decided you made enough sense to yourself that you would let him know where the diner was once you had a chance to get to your phone and text him.  
_Hey Sam, it's Angel, but you can call me [Y/N] from now on. I work brunch at Bonnie's diner on fifth._  
_S: Hi [Y/N] the angel. I’ll meet you there at the end of your shift. I’d like to hear more about you._  
You smiled to yourself and put your phone down. You wanted to get a few hours of sleep before you had to get up to get ready for your second job.  
*  
Knowing that Sam was stopping by to see you made your serving shift feel that much longer, but your face lit up when you saw him walk in a few minutes after you started cleaning up to clock out. He seemed excited to see you too, checking you out from head to toe in the daylight. “Angel,” he greeted you, sitting on a barstool in front of you and leaning over the counter.  
You scoffed. “Forget I ever said that. Just call me [Y/N],” you told him, continuing to clean the workspace so you could leave.  
He reached across the counter to gently place his hand on your wrist, catching your attention. “I like Angel. It fits you,” he said in a confident and somewhat sexy voice.  
You blushed and looked away. He withdrew his hand and let you finish cleaning. “Did you want to eat here or go somewhere else?” You asked.  
“Well, I’m sure you don’t want to be here any longer than you have to be. But if you’re hungry, we can go wherever you want,” he offered.  
“There’s a good sports pub a few blocks away, would that be okay?” you suggested, trying to think of what would be best for lunch.  
Sam smiled. “A woman after my own heart,” he joked.  
You finished cleaning and took off your apron before clocking out and leaving the diner with Sam. Given that there were tragedies in the town and you only just met the man, you felt safe around him for some reason.  
When you got to the pub, you ordered a burger, fries, and a cocktail. You had been working hard the past couple of weeks, almost doubling what you normally made between your jobs. He was practically gawking at you as you binged out. “So are you in school or do you just launder money on the side?” Sam asked jokingly.  
You laughed, understanding what he was getting at. “Neither,” you said, your mouth still full of food. You finished chewing and swallowing your bite. “I just realized what I wanted in life a little too late,” you said after taking a sip of water.  
“And what might that be?” Sam asked, with that sexy tone again.  
You sighed blissfully. “I want to travel. But before I can do that, I need to get some funding. So here I am. With two jobs that I can work whenever I want and then eventually quit whenever I want.”  
Sam snacked on his own plate. “Where do you wanna go?” he asked.  
“Well, first things first, I want to take a road trip all around the country,” you said excitedly.  
Sam chuckled. “It’s not as great as it seems.”  
“You’ve done it?” you asked curiously. “Tell me about it while I finish my burger.”  
“Well, my brother and I were on the road for about seven years before settling… uh, we grew up on the road, and when our dad died my brother fixed up his old ride, and we started going to all these places he wrote about in his journal… then our grandpa gave us the key to his old place, which was awesome… but yeah. It wasn’t fun like it sounds, it was mostly just work. Odd jobs, this and that.”  
“What do you do?” you asked when the bite in your mouth was down to a manageable size.  
“Well, I guess you could say we’re kind of like private investigators. People have something they want scoped out, we clear things up for them so they don’t have to worry anymore.”  
You looked at him suspiciously. A childhood memory flashed through your mind. “What kind of things?” You asked, more intrigued.  
Sam seemed to recognize the fear in your eyes. He leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone, “Anything you need to talk about.”  
You put the remainder of your burger back down on the plate. “Something happened to me when I was little…” you began quietly. You had avoided telling the story ever since it got you put in a psychiatric institution, let alone in front of a near total stranger. “No one ever believes me.”  
He reached across the table and softly placed his hand on your wrist. “I’ll believe you.”  
And you couldn’t not trust those deep galactic eyes. “I woke up one day… I went into my parents’ room and they were dead… they were murdered… and when I looked down… I was _covered_ in blood… it wasn’t my blood… it was _theirs_ … I called 911… they never found my parents’ killer… they put me into the system… I was nine…” Tears were streaming down your face by the time you finished. You lowered your voice to barely a whisper. “I don’t remember… but I think it was my fault…”  
Sam was back to the tense man you had first laid eyes on. “Do you remember smelling rotten eggs?”  
Your breath caught in your throat. _How’d he know? “I_ smelled like rotten eggs…”  
“I’m not being presumptuous, but I think I should take you back home… You look a little pale…”  
Once he said that, you were immediately aware of the lack of blood flow in your face. And how nauseous you suddenly felt. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” you grumbled, regretting even bringing up the subject.  
Sam threw down a handful of cash and helped you out of the booth. “You okay? We can take it slow.”  
“No, I just wanna get out of here.” You practically ran outside and over to a bush so you could vomit, trying not to let Sam see.  
You felt him crouch down next to you when you got the last of the heaves out. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you to talk about it… But if you want, I think I can explain.”  
You shook your head and wiped your mouth with your sleeve. “I’m not crazy,” you croaked.  
“I know you’re not… Come on, let’s get you home and get you hydrated.” It nearly went against every instinct you had to let this strange ‘private investigator/sort-of-cop/occasional club client’ take you home, but something about him told you that you were safe.  
*  
You were sitting on your couch, two glasses of water later, Sam a respectable distance from you. “I think I could keep some crackers down,” you told him.  
He nodded. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go grab you some.”  
He sat slightly closer to you when he returned with your crackers. You started nibbling. “You know what happened to me, don’t you?” you asked. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he knew some awful truth and pitied you for it.  
“Yeah. You were possessed by a demon, and it used your body to kill your parents and help you get away with it.”  
_I knew I wasn’t crazy._ “So, if I was right about demons being real…” you thought aloud. “What else is out there?”  
“You probably don’t want to know.”  
Your shoulders slumped. “Oh no. That means everything.” _Demons, angels, vampires, werewolves, god knows what else… God?_ You shook off the thought and continued eating your crackers.  
Sam smiled painfully. “Yeah, pretty much.”  
“You’re not a private investigator or a sort-of-cop, are you?”  
He looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his hands. “No.”  
_He must hunt these things for a living, that’s why he grew up on the road, why he stayed on the road for so long._ Which led you to another train of thought. “But you’re not on the road anymore?”  
“Well, I am, but I guess you could say I have a ‘home base’ now.” He used air quotes.  
“So you do live in the next town over.” You tried to hide the disappointment in your tone. He nodded and gave you a somewhat questioning look. “Then would you do me a favor?”  
He looked back over at you. “Sure, what is it?”  
“Don’t come back to the club. Come see me at the diner,” you told him.  
“Okay… Can I ask why?”  
You hesitantly sat the box of crackers down on the coffee table and turned to face him. “Well, I’m not sure I’d be… professional… if you were to pay… for another private dance…” you admitted hesitantly, feeling your heart fluttering again.  
You hadn’t noticed, but he had scooted closer to you as well. “I can keep a secret…” he murmured, his face inching closer to yours.  
“I don’t want you to think I’m… unprofessional…” But right as you finished the word, your lips met his, and suddenly you were back on his lap, his arms wrapped around you in a way he wasn’t allowed to touch you at the club.  
Your hands tangled in his hair as he clawed at the back of your shirt, trying to rid you of the material. You willingly slid out of your shirt, and he picked you up and carried you to your bed in the small studio apartment, stripping you of the rest of your clothes once there. You wrapped your legs around his waist and rolled over so you were on top of him, practically ripping his stupid flannel shirt off, and the one underneath. He helped you get his pants off after he kicked off his shoes and pulled you back against him, squeezing your thighs so hard you were sure he would leave marks. _So he is the dominant type…_ You pinned him back against the bed and started rubbing yourself against his rock hard dick. Sam groaned and bucked up beneath you. “Please,” he breathed, trying to pull you onto him.  
_But that please was submissive…_ you thought. _This should be interesting…_ Rather than waiting for you to do as he asked, Sam rolled back on top of you and lined himself up, teasing you before pushing inside. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him as deep into you as he could get, tangling your hands in his hair. “Sam,” you gasped before he attacked your lips with his. His hand reached to cup your breast, running his thumbs over your nipple, sending tremors throughout your body. _I could get used to this…_ Sam bit your lip, and you dropped your legs, arching up into him. He dug his other hand into your ass as he kept thrusting into you, and again you were sure he’d leave marks. You used one of your hands to yank Sam’s hair while you gently wrapped the other around his throat, giving just the slightest squeeze.  
Sam smiled devilishly and lifted you both back into a seated position, with you in his lap. The position felt so amazing it was hard not to accidentally cut off all oxygen flow to his lungs, so you moved your hands to claw at his shoulder blades instead. “Angel,” he breathed as you rode him. Sam buried his head in your neck and sucked even more marks onto your body.  
_God, why is it so hot when he calls me that?_ You felt the familiar tingling building in your core and leaned back a little, clinging to the friction the new angle provided. “Fuck!” you whimpered. _So close._  
It was Sam’s turn to pull your hair, picking up the pace for you. “Yeah?” he murmured into your ear in a sultry voice. Something came over you, and you slammed him back onto the mattress, taking control so you could ride out your climax. “God, you’re hot,” he whispered before kissing you roughly. And then you felt him explode inside of you, sending shivers through your spine and triggering another orgasm.  
You bit down on his lip and moaned into his mouth, using his lips to muffle your pornographic noises. Once you both came down, you finally came up for air, Sam breathing just as heavily as you were. You propped your arms up against the mattress and rested your forehead against his. “Not an angel,” you laughed, still trying to catch your breath. Sam chuckled and gave you a peck on the lips. “What was that for?” you asked.  
“You,” he said charmingly.  
You rolled your eyes and climbed off of him, taking a trip to the bathroom to clean up before crawling back into your bed, where Sam seemed to make himself comfortable. He welcomed you into his arms and you entangled your body in his. “So… you hunt monsters?” _Might as well break the ice._  
“How’d you figure that?” he joked back, with just a hint of sincerity. He traced his hands along your body as he spoke.  
“You help people with demons and everything else that’s real. Sounds like monster hunting, if you ask me. Especially the life on the road and newly acquired home base.” You voiced your deductions honestly.  
“Yeah, well, you’re smarter than most…” he mumbled.  
Then you started thinking, really thinking. If a demon possessed you all those years ago, you wanted to kill it. More than that, you wanted to keep it from ever happening to another person again. You wanted to do more than just travel. You wanted to travel _and_ keep people safe. And maybe Sam would let you come with him. You looked up at him. “I want to quit my jobs,” you said. His face turned to confusion, then curiosity. “I want to come with you…”  
His face turned deadly serious and he shook his head. “No, you don’t,” he replied sternly.  
“Don’t tell me what I want,” you demanded. “I _hate_ serving. I _hate_ stripping.” Sam gave you those puppy dog eyes again. “Well, for everyone but you…” you added lightheartedly. “But I love the road and I love the idea of saving people… Especially if you’re involved…”  
Sam tucked your hair behind your ear and tried to hold back a smile. “Don’t quit anything just yet… But you’re welcome to come back ‘home’ with me.” He used air quotes.  
“How about I quit one and not the other?” You suggested a compromise. “I mean… _you_ wouldn’t be missing out on anything…” you reassured him. He exhaled and shook his head, once again holding back a smile. “Oh, don’t get all shy on me now,” you flirted some more.  
He gently pulled your face to his for a tender, but still needy, kiss. “Oh, I’m not shy.” _There was that dominant voice again…_ Just then you were startled by the crash of your door being kicked in, a man with a gun rushing into your studio. You screamed and pulled the sheets up around you. The intruder lowered his gun when he saw you and Sam, and you were able to recognize him as Sam’s brother, the one who bought his lap dance. “Dean, what the hell?!” Sam shouted, covering himself as well.  
Dean looked down at the floor awkwardly. “Dammit, Sam, you can’t just disappear to go get laid without telling me,” he said in an agitated tone.  
“Did you track my phone?” Sam accused.  
“Sammy, we were in the middle of a hunt and you disappeared for a few hours, what did you expect?” Dean replied, still looking anywhere but at the bed. Sam met his brother with a silent glare. “She clean?” Dean asked him, just barely glancing up at you.  
Sam huffed angrily. “She’s fine, Dean. Leave. Now.”  
A look of recognition crossed Dean’s face. “Oh shit, is that the stripper from the other night?” he said excitedly. You buried yourself under the sheets. “Way to go, Sammy!”


End file.
